


No.

by rabidbinbadger



Series: Fragments [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Related, Cas being a little shit, Gen, Human Castiel, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidbinbadger/pseuds/rabidbinbadger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is very, very old. He’s seen a lot of shit, and done a lot of things for a lot of different causes. Not today, though. Today he’s doing what he wants – and turns out, what he wants to do most is annoy Dean Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday present for [thearronaut](http://tmblr.co/mXnJDNQzU8nv1awDSrVNQ4g).

Cas wakes up to the sound of banging on his door. He pulls the duvet over his head, tunes out the noise and makes a valiant effort at going back to sleep.

He’s successful, and Dean – because he doesn’t know for sure that it’s Dean, but let’s face it, it’s Dean – eventually gives up and fucks off.

He keeps coming back though, and, if Cas were a better person, he’d have got up and seen what he wants by now. But he isn’t, so he doesn’t.

Eventually Dean seems to decide that he’s had enough, because he knocks one last time and then opens the door, hand over his eyes, muttering, “don’t be naked, don’t be naked, don’t be naked.”

Cas is, and he doesn’t give a fuck for Dean’s delicate sensibilities, so he’s staying that way.

“What?” Cas demands, slightly muffled.

Dean, thinking it must be safe, uncovers his eyes, yelps in very undignified fashion.

That’s, that’s Cas lying on his front and completely naked apart from the pillow covering his head. And wow, since when have his thighs been so fucking enormous and muscly. WOAH. We are not thinking about that, especially not about strong they must be and how nice they would feel wrapped around someone’s waist NOPE we are also going to stop gawping at the naked guy, although as the naked guy isn’t looking is it really all that bad he never has to know – NO. Dean isn’t going down that road, he’s not a perv, he’s not a perv. He’s still fucking staring, though.

Dean covers his eyes again, hopes he isn’t blushing too stupid hard.

“Dude, we have a case. Put some pants on and meet us outside in, uh,” Dean mentally calculates how long it’s gonna take him to have a power wank – because he has an ongoing, um, situation – and clean up after himself. “half an hour and we’ll hit the road.”

“No.” Cas says, into the pillow.

“What?”

“I’m not coming. Go by yourself.”

“What do you mean you’re not coming?”

Cas groans, put out and annoyed and really wanting Dean to fuck off so he can go back to sleep. He removes the pillow, sits up. He could put it over his crotch to spare Dean the embarrassment he’s clearly feeling, if the bright red face is anything to go by, but Cas is not in a charitable mood.

“I meant I don’t want to come, and you’ll be fine without me.”

“But…” Dean trails off lamely.

“But what, Dean?” He asks, with just enough challenge in his tone to make Dean gulp.

“O-okay.” Dean manages, and backs out of the room.

Cas doesn’t settle down until he’s heard the door slam.

 

 

*

 

4 hours of refreshing, Winchester free sleep later, Cas stretches, gets up. His first stop is the kitchen. It’s immaculately clean, as ever, and because he’s in a little shit mood today, he decides that’s not acceptable. Besides, it’s rare Dean isn’t here to cluck at him and tell him to get out from under his feet.

Today the kitchen belongs to Cas, and he’s going to have fun with it.

And the first order of business is coffee. He makes far too much, doesn’t bother cleaning it away. Not his problem.

Next he realises he’s hungry, decides to try his hand at making something to eat. He’s never cooked for himself before, Dean has always taken care of it – in a way that he clearly thinks is being thoughtful, but is often just annoying and infantilising. No, Cas, you can’t make your own toast, here, let me do it.

Not today, Dean. Not today.

What to make, though?

Not bacon, because he hasn’t got dressed yet and there’s not a single naked person alive who isn’t afraid of bacon. Pancakes maybe. How hard can it be?

 

 

*

 

The fire alarm is going off, and, while it’s a pleasant surprise to find that they do, in fact, have a fire alarm, in no other way is it great.

He just wandered away from the pan for five minutes, okay, ten. Okay he doesn’t know how long he totally forgot about it, this human bullshit is harder than it looks.

Anyway, his pancakes are now close enough to coal that he could probably fuel something with them, and therefore fuck this, he’s going out for breakfast.

 

 

*

 

He pulls the Continental into the parking lot of a diner that looks like it sits somewhere in between grossly seedy, and way out of his price range. The menu is expansive, and he remembers hearing someone on TV say that the fewer items there are on offer, the better the quality of the place. Mind you, he isn’t sure if that rule applies to diners.

He scans the menu, makes a note of every single item that takes his fancy, flicking Dean’s credit card between his fingers as he does. And okay, it’s not Dean’s actual credit card, it’s just one of his fake ones, but it still feels satisfying.

He’s not even really sure why he’s going so far out of his way to annoy Dean. Dean has done nothing _specific_ to piss him off today. It’s more a rolling thing. The assumption. Taking him for granted, almost. That, and the being treated like an idiot five year old.

He’s a good few thousand years old, and if he wants to be petty, he thinks he’s earned the fucking right.

So he orders six items off the menu, much to the waitress’s lack of care. All things he hasn’t tried before, all things Dean or Sam said he wouldn’t like, or recommended against.

He doesn’t even get halfway through his selection, and he feels a momentary flicker of guilt at all the wasted food, until the waitress wanders over and asks him if he wants it all bagged up. He says yes, because if there’s one thing that’ll annoy Dean more than ruining his kitchen, it’s filling his fridge with foods he despises.

Cas leaves a generous tip, because he’s a proper human being, ex-angel, whatever, and makes his way outside into the fresh air.

He sits down on a bench for a little bit, winded from his overambitious feast and just needing to catch his breath a little before he carries on.

Someone sits down beside him, and he hears the click of a lighter.

“Want one?” The woman offers.

“Sure.”

He takes the cigarette, inhales, savours the smoke and then breathes it back out. Jimmy’s body remembers this, from long ago rebellious teenage years.

Cas likes it. The burn in his lungs feels not too dissimilar to grace, and the nicotine rush is excellent.

He closes his eyes as he takes the next puff, tips his head back and blows the smoke up into the sky.

“You look like you’re enjoying that.” The woman observes.

“Yes.” He replies. “Yes I am.”

He finishes the cigarette, drops the butt on the ground and extinguishes it with his heel.

“Is there somewhere nearby that sells these, what brand are they?”

The woman laughs, in a way that suggests she knows she’s going down and is enjoying the thought of taking someone else with her.

“Shop on the corner. Marlboro Light”

“Thanks.” He waves as he walks away. She salutes him back, not even trying to hide her laugh.

He buys two packs and a lighter, sparks one up immediately and stands on the street corner, blowing smoke theatrically out into the sky.

Now, he muses to himself, what to do next?

**Author's Note:**

> [Rebloggable link](http://rabidbinbadger.tumblr.com/post/137303501141/birthday-present-for-thearronaut-who-is-having-a)


End file.
